


The Darkness Within Desire

by DistractedDream



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Porn, BAMF Loki, Casual Sex, Gay Sex, Knifeplay, Light Dom/sub, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki-centric, M/M, Warning: Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 03:48:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5275397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistractedDream/pseuds/DistractedDream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki has a hard time adjusting to life back on Midgard and needs a very specific release.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Darkness Within Desire

**Author's Note:**

> To read about Loki's departure from Jotunheim, please see "Farewell to Jotunheim" (G-rated).
> 
> I can be found on Twitter @DistracteDream and on Tumblr @DistractedDream. Please leave kudos or comments if you liked this! I appreciate every single one.

Satisfaction is not in Loki’s nature.

The transition was more difficult this time. The move to Midgard from Jotunheim had left Loki restless, anxious, wanting… something. He wandered throughout his home until the silence drove him out of doors. The God had found himself at an old greenhouse, any hopes of new, green things growing long past. The windows had shattered pleasingly, each pane popping, cracking, fracturing as his energy hit the glass. Yet, it wasn’t enough. A relaxed flick of his wrist and flames were soon consuming the structure, the metal frame warping as it began to melt.

As the God of Mischief watched the fire, he knew it still wasn’t sufficient. His skin felt too tight, the glamour of hiding his Jotunn skin not yet sitting right. He needed a release. He needed to hurt… not something. Someone. Loki turned from the embers, no longer distracted by them, mind pinpointing just what he needed to complete his return to Midgard. A need that would be darker than appropriate for his return to his mate.

He needed the people to kneel. He needed the people to bleed.

With a simple thought, Loki teleported to the nearest city. Night cloaked his movements as he selected a poorly lit establishment, music spilling into the street full of waiting humans. A low flash of green light and Loki ran his fingers through shorter, lighter locks and over a very fine covering of stubble on his chin. It was an easy metamorphosis, nothing that required much magical energy to maintain, and then he slipped into the club, patting the bouncer on the shoulder as though he’d be waved through.

Oh, it was tempting. Scores of Midgardians under a variety of influences, drugs, alcohol, lust. Most easy targets for a power-hungry God who craved attention. Loki turned to the bar, resisting the lure of the many, knowing that one would fulfill his needs. One that would be willing, eager to worship him. His blue eyes captured different faces throughout the room. Male, female, so many choices. The softness of a female body was desirable but not suitable. A male. Younger. One who would be more resilient to his particular attentions and desires tonight.

Loki weaved through the mortals, deigning to dance with a few, the motions only heightening his need. Confident hands crept around his waist as a younger Midgardian male dared to dance closer. Loki grinned slowly, his own long fingers pulling the man to him. He could not sense any drugs on his new partner and only a hint of liquor. Old enough then. Savvy enough to show his interest without any shame. In the dark, their bodies moved, learning each other’s rhythms, smiles exchanged but no words, no shouting over the bass and treble.

Finally, the Mischief God tugged on the man’s hand, leading him to the door, away from the masses outside. A niche forgotten by the streetlamps and neon lights found them speaking in hushed tones, hands roaming more freely than permitted in the bar. Loki pressed the man back into the brick wall, lifting him to wrap the human’s legs around his hips, smiling as he was rewarded with a soft moan, fingers clinging to his shoulders.

Billy. The name sounded so pedestrian on the God’s tongue, yet he indulged, whispering it in the younger man’s ear. Loki’s own dark desire wrapped around them both until the Midgardian – Billy – was writhing against him, inconsequential begging coming from his lips. When Loki felt the man start to tense, legs quivering around his body, he carefully set him down, stepping away from him, resisting the whine as Loki’s magic increased the cold, the subtle suggestion emphasizing the separation. This. This was the start of what he wanted.

Loki extended his hand to the human. An invitation. It would be the man’s choice if he accepted. Freedom, or the illusion of it, was a powerful force.

Without hesitation, Billy reached for the God’s hand, eyes wide as they were transported back to Loki’s home, arriving in one of the many spare bedrooms. A long finger fell against his lips, quieting the younger man. “You are not safe here. Though you are here willingly.” Loki brushed his fingers through Billy’s hair, the gesture comforting, contrasting his words. “You will be well cared for,” he paused, grip tightening in his hair, guiding the mortal to his knees. “If you worship me properly.”

He almost purred as the man knelt at his feet, eyes lifted, unafraid, that confidence first shown on the dance floor evident even in this space. Loki smiled lazily as he circled about the room, rolling his shirtsleeves to the elbow. “Remove your shirt. I will indulge you a safe word, should you have one, and will abide by the custom of respecting it if you invoke it.” His grin turned dark as he faced the human. “Though you will not need it.”

His belt slid from his slacks, held loose in his hand. Eager hands deftly popped the button, opening the zipper, eyes asking for permission as the God’s hard length was revealed. Loki inclined his head, releasing a tense breath as the man’s tongue laved at his cock, head tipping back as the human mouth worshipped him. He dug his fingers into Billy’s hair, allowing himself the enjoyment of this moment before his need refocused, driving him to something darker.

It was not enough. He brought his belt up, holding an end in each hand as he braced it behind the man’s head, using it to pull him roughly onto his cock. He moaned as the Midgardian gagged, tears forming in the hopeful eyes, as Loki used the belt to take full control. Billy’s hands grasped at the God’s legs, grounding himself, letting his mouth be used as he wished, until Loki shuddered, his cum filling the human’s mouth and throat.

The orgasm only sharpened Loki’s need, clearing his head of the initial lust. He released Billy, letting him swallow, breathe, calm himself, as the God of Chaos slowly unbuttoned and removed his shirt, leaving him in his still open trousers. “Such a pretty thing.” Loki summoned his dagger, so recently coated in Jotunn blood, to his hand. “Let me fix that.”

Billy’s eyes widened once more, small pleading whimpers, lust colored by fear as he started to rise to his feet. Loki moved swiftly behind the man, blade caressing his throat. “Kneel,” he commanded, forcing the mortal back to the floor. “You will not rise until I permit it.” The dagger traced a careful line over Billy’s shoulder. “If you are not still…” The God’s wrist twisted a fraction, blood welling as the sharpened edge dragged over pale flesh. His breath caught, gaze focused on the bright red as it pooled, dripped down the young man’s back.

Closer. The blood, the pain, the fear, and yet the consuming desire to please, to worship, this is what Loki wanted. What he needed. He inhaled sharply. Not enough. He stalked around the human, spinning the dagger’s handle against his palm. Control. A gentle finger curled under Billy’s chin as the blade was drawn against his cheek. The man hissed though he remained still, only the motion from his breathing betraying the God’s command.

Red lines over mortal skin, some open, the tangy scent of blood, fear, lust filling the room as the God worked. The man swayed on his knees, eyes unfocused as the loss of blood started to affect him. Loki stepped back, his own eyes dark, his blade dripping on the floor, a path from his supplicant to his own position. The lines… his mind cleared, momentarily sated, allowing him to see what he’d done. The mortal was covered in red marks, mimicking the raised blue lines of Jotunn flesh, delicate paths scratched, carved, traced in his skin.

Loki sighed with contentment, vanishing his dagger, to be cleaned another time. A quick motion found his slacks likewise disregarded. A dazed smile crossed the human’s features in appreciation despite his fragile condition. It made the God feel almost tender to him. He offered his hand with a smile of his own. “You may rise.” Billy stood slowly, unsteady, the change emphasizing his weakened state. With a fluid motion, Loki lifted the younger man off the floor, unconcerned that the mortal’s blood now covered his own chest.

He laid the Midgardian on the bed before stripping the remainder of Billy’s clothes off, fingertips brushing over the uncovered skin. His hand flexed, the temptation to call in his blade and complete his artwork strong. A soft sigh captured his attention, breaking the need for more bloodshed, as the man stretched against the fresh white sheets, blood smearing on the fabric from the multitude of cuts. Loki’s hand ran over the wounds, flowing back to the unblemished flesh, taking the mortal’s hard cock in his fist, pumping, teasing. Billy moaned as he watched the God working him through lowered lashes.

Pulling himself onto the bed, Loki settled between the man’s thighs, looming over his prone body with an amused smirk. “I’ll not be gentle,” he warned, thumb pressing against one of the bleeding cuts. “Perhaps you’ve realize that by now.” His hand slipped between their bodies, stroking, stretching, lying as his fingers prepared him. The mortal writhed, moaning as he pushed down on the God’s digits, meaningless words streaming from his lips as he pleaded, his need to please feeding into his lust.

A shift and Loki buried his cock fully in the younger man, grinning darkly as Billy cried out, pain, pleasure mixed, each feeding the other. The God rocked his hips, fucking the man under him, finally releasing his rage with each thrust, nails scoring the previously unmarked thighs. The Midgardian begged, his balls and cock bouncing from the brutal sex, body tensing as he edged closer to orgasm. Finally, Loki’s own orgasm near, he wrapped his long fingers around the man’s shaft. “Now, pet,” he growled, a pleasured sigh as the body under him arched, cock twitching as thick ropes shot over his stomach and chest, the creamy fluid combining with the dark blood.

The God groaned at the sight, pounding harder until he found his own release, balls drawing up as he came, filling the mortal. With a deep breath, Loki sat back on his heels, slipping out, his cum dripping onto the sheets. Billy’s limbs fell limply, his eyes barely open as Loki stepped off the bed, head tilting as he studied the mess. A half-awake human, mussed sheets, blood, and cum all spread out before him. He grinned, the expression tinged with madness and pride, magically cleaning and reclothing himself, leaving the young man naked and filthy where he lay.

“You may stay.” He chuckled, knowing that Billy did not have the strength to oppose even had he wanted. Loki rolled his shoulders, the Asgardian glamour setting easier on his form at last. “Perhaps I will introduce you to my twin. He may find you as pleasing as I have.” He adjusted his cuffs, dressed properly to find his mate, to reunite after his stay in Jotunheim. Billy finally spoke, words thick as the darkness of unconsciousness pulled him under. “There’s more than one of you?!”

The God of Mischief laughed, satisfied for the moment, the sound fading as he left the room and the mortal behind.


End file.
